I'd wait forever
by cassiemortmain
Summary: A collection of short Sybil x Tom stories, mainly modern AU. New chapter - Rock the Easter AU - Sybil finds a surprise Tom has made for her...
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note_

A Sybil x Tom Rock the Valentine AU fic. Dedicating this to everyone in our lovely fandom to thank you for all your support over the last year since I joined Tumblr!

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**I hate Valentine's Day**

Sybil opened one eye and immediately regretted it - _Christ, it's so bright in here! Oh my head... _

She opened the other eye and worked out why the sun was streaming into her room - she wasn't actually in her room. She half sat up and saw she was in her underwear, covered by a duvet in a blue and white check cover she didn't recognise.

_Where the bloody hell am I?_

Getting up, she found a white robe on a hook behind the door. She put it on and went through the door to find herself in a spacious, bright living room.

"Umm, hello?"

No answer. She smelt the blessed aroma of fresh coffee, so she followed her nose towards the kitchen. There, she learned she was not alone...

"Hello."

He was tall enough that she had to look up to see his face. His Henley t-shirt, worn with striped pajama bottoms, defined his well muscled shoulders and chest, while his fair hair, messed up from sleep, was falling into his eyes, eyes so blue they hurt. _Wow, he is hot - what a sight to wake up to!_

"How are you doing, Sybil?" His lips curved in a smile.

"Sorry, umm, this must sound really stupid, but I have no idea who you are or why I'm here..." Her hands moved in an uncertain gesture, pushing her fringe back from her face.

"We met last night at the Rose & Crown. Don't you remember?"

The name of Sybil's favourite local pub started a chime in her mind. "I think so - how did we meet again?"

"You tripped and fell into my lap and spilled a tray of tequila shots all over me."

"Oh God, how embarrassing! I'm so sorry..." Again she made that uncertain gesture with her hands as she got a flashback…

_Sitting at a table with Anna and Gwen and a few other people, drinking way too much, gesticulating wildly, pontificating loudly about God knows what, going to the bar to get more drinks and then..._

"Tom, it's Tom."

"Sorry again, Tom. God, I feel awful - is there anything that needs drycleaning?"

"Don't worry about it, Sybil - it's all in the machine, it'll be fine. No harm, no foul."

That smile again - this time, a small electric shock danced its way down her spine and she couldn't help smiling back.

"And then you said something about how much you hated Valentine's Day. A guy called Larry, I think, got a bit of a serve?"

"Oh shit. Sorry, yes, we were all out for an anti-Valentine's drink or six so I could rain abuse on my ex, basically - long story. Short version is he cheated on me and I found out, and he dumped me to be with her."

"What an idiot." Sybil wasn't sure if that was what he said - it was almost under his breath.

"Want some coffee?" Tom reached for the stovetop percolator.

"I'd give my right arm for a cup."

"No need to go that far. Milk and sugar?"

"No thanks - black is good."

Pouring coffee into a Manchester United mug, he handed it to her. Their fingertips touched as she took it - perhaps for longer than was strictly necessary.

Without asking, he shook out a couple of Nurofen from the bottle on the counter - "Just in case". She sipped her coffee and swallowed the Nurofen.

"Tom, this is an awful thing to have to ask, but - I'm at your place, in my underwear..."

"No, Sybil - nothing happened, don't worry. When a woman throws up and then passes out, it's not really on the agenda."

She closed her eyes in mortification - _Oh my God! How much did I have to drink last night?_

"After I put you to bed, I slept on the couch. I just took off your shoes, you must have taken your clothes off yourself during the night."

"I threw up? Really?"

"Yes, but don't worry - it happens to the best of us. Hope your hair is OK."

"My hair?"

"I held it back for you."

_Larry would never have done that for me in a million years..._

She took another sip of coffee. "Would it be OK if I took a quick shower? My mouth feels like the bottom of a canary's cage."

"Sure - help yourself. Towels are in the cupboard in the hall - and I can see you already found a robe." His eyes twinkled at her in a way that sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach.

Five minutes later, Sybil was back, her hair wet and dripping over the shoulders of the borrowed robe. Tom had moved into the living room by then - he had taken their coffee mugs to the table by the window, and was reading the paper.

"Anything interesting?"

"Hi - feeling better?"

"Thanks - much better. Hope you don't mind - I'm still wearing your robe, I couldn't seem to find my clothes anywhere."

"S'OK. I'm just looking to see if my article made the front page."

"Your article? Are you a journalist?" Another chime in her mind - _The Guardian_, home affairs desk or maybe justice?

"Yes! Found it. Wait till I show my mother - this is my first front page."

"Tom, that's brilliant - congratulations."

He handed the paper over to her. She scanned it and, sure enough, there was his byline - Tom Branson.

"I like the photo - very serious looking."

"Yeah, you have to get suited up for it, which is funny as I never wear a suit to work, and they don't let you smile either."

"That's a shame..." She picked up her coffee mug again in both hands, cradling it, and he grinned at her as he realised what she meant.

"Tom, I have to ask - how did I get here?"

"After we had been talking for a bit, you realised you had lost your wallet. You couldn't find your friends, so I brought you back here to lend you a tenner to get home, as I didn't have any more cash on me. When you came in... well, the rest is history. But the main thing is, you're OK."

She slurped down the rest of her coffee, feeling awkward and fluttery - _Gutted I already blew it with this guy - not just gorgeous but really sweet, too..._

"I should probably get out of your hair… I'm sure you've got things to do."

"No hurry, really. I was just going to make a bacon sandwich - want one?"

"Actually, that would be brilliant. With lots of brown sauce, please."

"Brown sauce? Ah, that's so wrong - bacon sandwiches should only be eaten with ketchup."

"Are we really going to have a debate about our condiment philosophies?" They exchanged smiles - _Is he flirting with me?_

"You stay put, Sybil - it'll only take a minute."

He went back into the kitchen - soon, an appetising aroma was filtering through the flat and Sybil surprised herself by feeling hungry.

"There you go." Tom put a plate in front of her. She immediately picked up the sandwich and took a bite.

"This is fantastic - thank you so much!" Her voice was slightly muffled through the large mouthful she was chewing.

"You're welcome - I don't often have guests for breakfast, so I thought I'd push the boat out."

They ate and talked - about life, the universe and everything. They laughed more than their fair share, and their eyes met with increasing frequency, leaving her breathless by the last time. _Am I imagining this? I haven't felt this much chemistry with a guy since - I don't know when... maybe never?  
_

He went back to the kitchen to make a second cup of coffee for them, and when he came back he set them both down in front of his place.

She stood up and walked over to him, then stopped. He looked up at her, flashing that smile again - "Anything wrong, Sybil?"

"I don't suppose..."

He turned his chair towards her and reached out his hand - "Come here to me - you weren't so shy last night..."

She took it and he pulled her into his lap. They looked at each other -

"It wasn't anything like this last night, was it?"

"Sybil, last night was amazing, because I met you. Don't worry about the rest of it."

"Oh, Tom..."

Their eyes locked. Sybil put her hand on Tom's stubbly cheek and stroked down to his chin before letting it come to rest on his throat. She felt his arm tighten around her back, while his other hand ran up her thigh to her waist and settled there. Leaning down to him, she cupped the back of his head as their lips met...

Their kiss was gentle at first, but it soon deepened and she heard herself moan as his tongue slid into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sank further into his lap, savouring the trembly, excited feelings running all through her...

After several minutes, their lips parted. She slowly opened her eyes and she saw he was smiling as widely as she was.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Sybil."

"Same to you, Tom - Can I take you out for lunch, or something, to say thank you?"

"That's be great."

"Could you lend me that tenner to pay for it?"

He pulled her into another kiss, more intense and even longer than the last one. Once they finally broke apart, breath ragged, he didn't move away, running his mouth along her jaw and kissing down her throat to her collarbone. From his racing heart beneath her fingers, she could tell that he was feeling the same way she was...

Feeling daring, she pushed his robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist. His eyes widened as he realised she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"Sybil, have you any idea how gorgeous you are? I wanted to kiss you as soon as I saw you last night."

"I have a better idea - let's dial out for lunch."

"Yes, OK, later on, much later, mmmm..." he murmured against her breasts...

_Ohhhh - maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all!_

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_A/N -_

Thanks to angiemagz for the awesome manip that accompanied this story on Tumblr - you'll probably recognise the original image from the last scene of _Silver Linings Playbook_. I've wanted to write something like this fic ever since I read chapter 129 of Love's Journey... so thanks also to Yankee Countess for her inspiration.

I tend to write a lot of one-shot ficlets for our lovely couple, and some people have been kind enough to suggest I collect them here. I decided to create two collections for these stories - you might have already come across my M-rated story collection, called "Tonight or Tomorrow" - well, here's its T-rated counterpart, which I have named "I'd Wait Forever". I will gradually bring over the backset of short one-off fics I've posted on Tumblr, to bring them all together in these collections.

Erin go Bragh! will continue as the main place for my period/canon era short fics (non-M rated), so this new collection will be mainly modern, and I may perhaps throw in a few other time periods - past and future - if I get inspired!

Thanks as always for your support of my writing! Would love to know what you think. :)


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note -_

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - it's so inspiring. :)

A modern AU Sybil and Tom ficlet that was first published on Tumblr a while ago, which I am now bringing over here to find it a home on ff. It was inspired by the beautiful picture of Sybil x Tom dancing which I used to illustrate it on Tumblr, which was created by the very talented piperholmes (who kindly gave me permission to use it). Thank you!

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**Shall we dance?**

"Slow, slow, quick quick slow..."

The look of concentration on Tom's face made Sybil laugh. "Sweetheart, this is meant to be fun!"

"Mmm - fun for who? Don't distract me, Sybil - I'm trying to count," he grinned.

They danced around the small studio to the insistent rhythms of the music, along with a few other couples, mainly beginners who were as hesitant as they were. Sybil loved to dance and had always wanted to learn the tango, so when she won the free lesson in the daycare raffle she couldn't resist giving it a try.

She had managed to convince Tom to come along, under the guise of "date night". Now that Michael was starting to walk, they didn't get much time to themselves, and once Matthew and Mary had offered to babysit, offering the excited little boy a cousins' sleepover with George, it was an offer too good to refuse.

Sybil had fun getting dressed up for the night, putting on her favourite red lipstick and a pair of shoes that made her husband grin suggestively - "You can leave those on when we get home later..."

Their teacher clapped her hands - "Good, very good, but don't forget - the tango is all about the embrace! Gentlemen, hold your partners so they feel secure, but always free to move."

Tom was trying to look serious as they stepped back and forth together, bodies pressed close, but he couldn't help a little smile breaking out as he trod on her toe for the third time in as many minutes - "Sorry, love, you know I am useless at this - I'm no dancer."

"That's not true - we danced the night away at our wedding!"

"Ah but that's because it was a ceilidh - that comes naturally to me," said Tom as he spun Sybil around and then dipped her.

Her long hair trailed towards the floor as she almost fell over, giggling. "Don't drop me, you muppet!"

With a wink, he pulled her back up. He slid his arm further around her waist and pulled her more deeply into him - "I do like the idea of the tango being all about the embrace, though… come here, you."

She could feel his heart beating against her own as he looked intently into her eyes. "I love you, Mrs Branson. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Mmm yes, maybe, once in a while. I love you too, Mr Branson."

"God knows, I can't blame you - sure, aren't I lovely."

She swatted his chest - "Watch it, cheeky - I might just accept the offer of that charming gentleman over there who kissed my hand when he asked me to dance with him."

Together, they turned to look at the old couple next to them, moving as if they had been doing that same dance together all their lives - so perfectly in sync with each other, they didn't even need to speak.

Sybil sighed, sounding a little wistful - "They are really sweet, aren't they - I wonder if we will be like them when we are old and grey."

Tom looked down at his wife - God, he loved her so much! Life was so busy these days and he wondered sometimes if he told her often enough how essential she was to him. She wasn't only his lover, she was also his best friend, who loved him for who he was, who always had his back and who encouraged him to be his best self. His face moved down to hers, coming within a breath of her lips.

"Darling, I promise you - I will love you, just the way I do now, until I die," he whispered. "Now, can I kiss you, for feck's sake?"

"What are you waiting for - a written invitation?"

They kept rocking slowly as their lips met - she closed her eyes and tightened her arms around him, feeling his tongue slide into her mouth and hearing him moan softly - "Mmmmm".

The silk of her dress slipped smoothly beneath his hands as he moved them gently up and down her back, feeling her warm skin through the fabric as he caressed her. The music was still swirling around them, and the other dancers gave them some room as their kiss deepened. After several minutes, they broke apart -

"Hold that thought, gorgeous girl... "

"Promises, promises," she replied, looking flirtatiously up at him through her long eyelashes as they started to circle the floor again.

"Come on - slow, slow, quick quick slow... " encouraged their teacher.

"It's lovely to have an evening alone with you, even if you insist on making me come out to fall over my own feet," he grudgingly admitted.

"Enjoy it while you can..." He quirked an eyebrow at her - "There's going to be another Branson, my love - I'm pregnant."

As Tom lifted Sybil off the floor and twirled her joyfully around in his arms, the old couple next to them watched and smiled. After all these years, they could tell a lot about people from the way they danced the tango and they could see that this young couple had already mastered the first rule - to embrace your partner as though you are about to dance the dance of your life.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note -_

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - please do keep telling me what you think. :)

A Sybil x Tom Rock the Easter AU ficlet - sometimes, only Bransons fluff will do! Dedicating this to the lovely mimijag - a great friend and fellow S/T author.

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**Hidden treasures**

"Oh, Aislín, not again, my sweetheart."

Sybil sighed as she cleaned up after her daughter. Tom had been called urgently into work to write the lead article on a breaking scandal in the Dáil, and she had spent most of Easter Saturday evening alone with a grizzly six month old who had just thrown up for the second time.

The doctor in her knew that Aislín only had a little fever, soon cured with some baby paracetamol, but even so she had been tempted to call her husband and ask him to come home. She had resisted picking up the phone so far, reasoning that the sooner he finished work, the sooner he could be with his family.

She walked over to the bedroom cupboard to try and find some clean linens, reaching up to the top shelf where she could see some towels had been shoved in. As she pulled, they all tumbled down on top of her, and something hard in the pile of towels bounced off her head and onto the floor.

Rubbing her head, she looked down and saw a box tied with a ribbon. She picked it up and put it on the table before lifting the baby from her cradle and wrapping her in a soft, fresh towel.

"Is that better, darling?" Aislín opened her tear-filled eyes and looked at her mother. "Let's go and look at the box, shall we?"

Sybil sat down, holding her daughter in the crook of her arm and rocking her a little as she untied the bow that held the box closed and lifted its lid. Inside was what seemed at first glance to be a random collection of objects, but on closer inspection each little item was revealed to be rich in meaning.

A smile bloomed on her face as she picked up two ticket stubs for "Sherlock Holmes", the first movie she and Tom had seen together. There was a coaster from the Lamb and Flag, the pub in Central London where they had first met, with her phone number scribbled on the back in eyeliner. A folded photo caught her eye from their first weekend away, of herself with wind-ruffled hair, looking out over the railing of Brighton Pier. _I didn't know he took this!_

Digging deeper into the box, she found a CD of _The Suburbs_ that she had burned for him after an Arcade Fire concert they both remembered as one of the best gigs of their lives, not just for the music but also because Tom had proposed to her during "No Cars Go". A silk gardenia she had worn in her hair when she had been a bridesmaid for her sister Mary lay beside a match book from a restaurant on the Place des Vosges, where they had eaten a memorable dinner during their babymoon in Paris just before Aislín's birth.

Still more treasures were revealed - a boarding pass from the flight they had taken when moving to Dublin, an order of service from their wedding in the local parish church a few months later. At the bottom of the box, she found a sheet of hospital notepaper with their daughter's first footprints on it, which made tears pour in earnest down her cheeks.

A key turned in the front door lock. "Sybil? I'm home. Where are you?"

She didn't answer, cuddling a now sleeping Aislín in her arms. He came into the bedroom and found them.

"Darling, what is it? What's wrong?" He leaned down to kiss her. "What have you got... oh, I see."

"Sweetheart, I've been crying like a baby, like our baby, looking through it."

Tom shrugged off his jacket and took Sybil's hand. Leading her to their bed, he lay back against the headboard and pulled them both gently into his embrace. He ran one finger down her cheek, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.

"I'm glad you found it – I made it for you as an anniversary present, but today's just as good. Do you like it?"

"It's just perfect, thank you, I love it! All those wonderful memories..."

Their eyes met and locked as he slid his finger under her chin, bringing her face closer to his. At the movement, their daughter stirred between them and began to whimper, hungry for her supper.

Tom helped Sybil unfasten her shirt and bra before shifting his position slightly, curving his arms around them both so that she could rest against him while she nursed their child. The young mother cradled Aislín's head in her hand as she started to suckle, the expression on her face making him catch his breath.

"Isn't she beautiful, darling?"

"Of course - she takes after her mother."

She smiled and blushed a little at his words, then settled back against his chest. For a while the room was silent except for their baby's gentle snuffling as she fed.

Reaching into his shirt pocket, Tom pulled out something small, slowly bringing it into Sybil's field of vision as she switched Aislín to her other breast.

"What... oh, Tom, a mini gold bunny! My favourite."

He unwrapped it with one hand and popped it into her mouth. "Happy Easter, Sybil - it's nearly midnight so I think it counts."

Her lips tasted of chocolate as he kissed her. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around his wife and child - _Every waking minute, my love..._

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_A/N - _

The Dáil is the Irish Republic's name for the lower house of their Parliament.

I was partly inspired by one of my fave movies, "Amelie", for this story, remembering how she finds the treasure box in her bathroom wall and sets out to find the owner.


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